


Seashells

by Sheeana



Category: Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Collection: Purimgifts Extras, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-22
Updated: 2013-02-22
Packaged: 2017-12-03 07:07:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/695570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sheeana/pseuds/Sheeana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Finnick has a present for Annie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seashells

**Author's Note:**

  * For [iceshade](https://archiveofourown.org/users/iceshade/gifts).



> I hope you enjoy this! It's just a little extra treat I wrote after I saw your requests on the list.

"It's for you," Finnick says expectantly.

He's holding up a necklace of seashells, skillfully strung together with rough twine. Annie can see his fingers' work in the way the intricate loops between each shell tuck into neat knots. He must have spent hours making it for her.

"You found them?" she asks, after she stares at it for awhile. 

"Every last one."

Annie considers it; she reaches out and lifts it up to the light while it's still in his hands. She examines each shell in turn, one by one. There are bright oranges and soft pinks and pure whites, and even three in a row the color of the grasses growing along the edge of the dunes by the shore. She traces the ridged and smooth surfaces with her fingertips and finds imperfections in the hard shells, and she imagines him in the hazy pink light in the early mornings and late evenings, wading through the shallow water and sifting through the wet sand with his fingers. She wants to take them and kiss away the chill, but he's not in the water right now. He's right here.

"I thought you could wear it tonight," he says softly. Tonight is the night when the men and women come back from the fishing boats to celebrate the end of the season. The beaches are lined with lanterns, and Annie always dances in the sand. She's done it since she was a little girl. Now Finnick dances with her, but the rest of it is the same. Life on the sea never changes.

Time is lost in her thoughts, and Finnick's still watching her expectantly when she remembers he's there. He's waiting for her to do something. 

She drops her hand away from the necklace and slowly turns around, lifting her hair away from her back with a sweep of her wrist. The grains of sand scattered across the kitchen floor scratch the soles of her bare feet. She used to find it annoying, she remembers, but now she doesn't want to go anywhere where there isn't always sand between her toes.

His fingers are gentle on her skin as he ties the twine at the back her neck like a fishing knot, a few quick movements and then he's done. They both learned to tie knots before they learned to walk. She could have done it herself, but she understands: this is a game they play. A good kind of game. He ties knots for her, and she washes his hair for him in the mornings. It isn't because he can't. It's because she can.

"Have I ever told you," he murmurs, his lips chapped and rough against the soft skin on her shoulder, "That you're beautiful?"

"Yes," she replies simply, and she turns her head so her lips meet his. His fingers catch in her hair and tug at it, but she doesn't mind. He's patient, like the waves creeping up the beach at dusk. He won't hurt her.


End file.
